Jan 19 2010

Among Upcoming Topics:

• A Portland Prince.
• Stuck Women.
• Roommates.
• Habits.
• Casual Relationships.
• Two Dogs.
• A Good Read.
• Exploring Thrift Shops.
• Seeing A Therapist.
• Having An Affair.
• Single Vs It’s Complicated.
• Spa Trip.
• Pole Dancing.

Jan 19 2010

I Vacuumed.

I vacuumed. I even gave each stem of yellow tulips in the living room a fresh cut AND fresh water. And I set the table with candles, made the bed, even moved the dog dish bowls from the kitchen to the laundry room. Tonight wasn’t my first dinner with Joel since our separation nearly a week ago; it was instead our fifth meal. It seems our separation, like just about everything we’ve gone through in the past 25 years, it another thing we are going to do together.

During the last several years my contribution to dinner was generally some input on the menu and showing up – taking a break from work in my home office. Unless deadlines were truly nipping at my heels, I did the dishes most of the time. In my limited experience, many male chefs A. don’t clean up as they go along B. do use every available pot, pan, utensil and plate possible.  Cleaning up was a descent contribution but I still got the better end of the deal for the past 13 years.

Joel became the family cook when long-distance interviews for a People Magazine/ Toyota advertorial assignment (that every writer in Tulsa was at one time or another part of) kept me from the kitchen in the early evening. I got the heavy hitters, the multiple franchise/ location dealers in time zones across the country who never had five minutes to spare until late at night.

Survival instincts kicked in with Joel. He’d rattle around the kitchen pantry and create something when hunger set in. He even began to enjoy it and “it” became the content of many a weekly food column I wrote for the Oklahoma Eagle.

One of my fondest memories is still very vivid. In our house on Cincinnati Ave in midtown Tulsa, I was upstairs in the spare bedroom (my office) writing when I was called to dinner. I walked into the kitchen to find Joel and our son Clay dancing around the island to Della Reese singing, “It is so nice to have a man around the house.

Somewhere along the line I stopped setting the table every night. At some point, we still sat on the floor at the coffee table but the TV had migrated to the living room and conversation was mostly during TV commercials.

Now Joel is a guest in my home and I’m doing some of the things I thought I was doing all along: making a meal shared with a friend a celebration.

As always, Trix